


The Persistence of Memory

by Sleepless_Malice



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Death, Drowning, Gen, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6303844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/pseuds/Sleepless_Malice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Beleriand sinks, Maglor follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Persistence of Memory

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this meme](http://chiliadicorum.tumblr.com/post/141136010747/random-writing-challenge-its-a-widely-known) I got tagged in by [chiliadicorum](http://chiliadicorum.tumblr.com/) on tumblr - thanks :)

Seagulls cry out loudly in the far distance as the never-ending surf against the shore rises and falls, as with indifference he watches the roll of the waves. Everything is as always – but then it isn’t; too late he realizes the cracking earth beneath him where soft sand pours into the rift; too late he sees the monstrous wave racing towards him; too late–

Above him the wave breaks and buries his body with such a strength that momentarily blackness blinds his vision.

At last the Valar show some mercy, he thinks, but then they aren’t as blackness is subsided by blinding blue and automatically he snaps for air the moment his head is above the surface. Another wave breaks over him, yet this time he isn’t caught by surprise. He welcomes the cold embrace of the water, arms spread wide open when he is pulled downwards by an invisible force until the light of the sun dissipates from his vision. As the rapids churn and slosh, water rushes into his lungs and underwater he finds himself coughing. From far away the sound of waves and cracking earth reached his ears as the tempestuous maelstrom stretches out its hands towards him. He doesn’t fight and soon his mind goes blank for the first time; his lungs burn already as tiny bubbles of breath slip out of his mouth.

For the first time he doesn’t exactly know he feels incredibly light, robbed off the dark thoughts that usually poisoned his mind, freed from the Oath at last.

He doesn’t struggle, he doesn’t struggle for rescue when he knows his life is forsaken – one way or the other. Instead a smile begins to form on his lips, mastering his body not to gasp for breath. Not yet as strangely peaceful it is.

Long forgotten memories float through his head: of lush meadows and pleasant laughter, of light so soft and golden that it almost seems surreal, of his little brothers and cousins playing amidst the blossoming flowers. Soon, however Laurelin’s golden light is subsided by the light of blood-read flames, threatening and consuming. Of anguished cries and desperate weeps – everything streams past him in a surging blur. His mother’s kind words ring in his ears, his father’s eyes burn into him, a lover’s touch against his heated skin, pleasant memories which are soon subsided by dreadful thoughts of poisonous fumes and hostile lands. Amidst the blue of the sea he sees his brother’s marred face, a body so fragile that he had sobbed for many nights when he was returned to them. Images of death and horror, of icy winds and snow-covered lands twine with flames and two young faces staring at him with disbelief. Again, he smiles, as so fondly he thinks of them. He is not granted peace for long as his father’s shining stones in the Maia’s hands he sees; an encampment late at night with his brother’s urging voice echoing in his mind, the same brother he couldn’t save. The stench of burnt flesh fills his memory, and with dread he remembers the cries which had filled his mind day after day, night after night.

His soul is breaking, unable to take the extreme cold and lack of oxygen, feeling as if his entire being is splintered apart like glass. When Maedhros’ face is burnt into ashes, at last he gives in and gasps for breath; ice-cold water streams into his lungs and further down he sinks, and sinks, and sinks until everything around him is eerily silent.

**Author's Note:**

> I am on tumblr, feel free to say hello over there [feanope](http://www.feanope.tumblr.com)


End file.
